


teenager in love

by orphan_account



Category: Sex Education (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Halloween Costumes, Light Angst, Love Letters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21638413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Whatever. He wasn’t going to sit at home and wallow. It was Friday. The Friday before Halloween, and Aimee was throwing the biggest costume party the school had ever seen. Eric wasn’t going to miss out just because some bully had seemingly come to his senses and remembered what an asshole he was. Not a chance.
Relationships: Eric Effiong/Adam Groff
Comments: 5
Kudos: 188





	teenager in love

**Author's Note:**

> i started writing this in june lol. definitely fairly ooc.
> 
> the timeline makes zero sense, but i just really wanted to dress eric up like an angel.
> 
> unbetaed, all mistakes are mine
> 
> title from “a teenager in love” by dion and the belmonts

The house is like something out of an F. Scott Fitzgerald novel. In all its wealth and hedonism, it glows. Like the green light at the end of the dock, or a yellow gold car. It beckons him closer, all while giving him a sinking feeling he should get as far away as he can. Around him people mull about, some staggeringly sloshed, barely able to hold themselves up, vomiting in the bushes. Others are radiant, charming, beautifully oblivious to the decay which surrounds them.

Focus in on Adam. Completely sober, towering over the crowd, on his fourth cigarette in twenty minutes. Dirty sneakers kissing the threshold. He knows he shouldn’t be here. The typically half hour walk had taken three times as long. Every few yards he’d turned back and started for home, before convincing himself to press on. Until this moment he wasn’t quite sure where he’d end up. Maybe he still wasn’t sure.

Adam wasn’t so impulsive these days. Not after half a year at Mountview, where every action was scrutinized, every move and facial twitch dissected. He’s more guarded, less spontaneous. A part of him feels robbed. He’s young and dumb,  _ shouldn’t _ he act on impulse? On emotion? He shouldn’t mull over the tiniest decisions. He should act without thinking. He thinks of the guy who pulled his pants down in view of the whole school. They may as well be two completely different people.

People knock into him on their way in and out of the house. He hardly notices. He spots Aimee, far across the room, hanging on that triangular guy. Looking at her makes him realize he hadn’t come here for her.

So why had he?

He makes a decision. Into the house. The two small steps over the threshold feel as difficult as they might if he were wearing leaden shoes.

Eric shouldn’t be here. He’s sad, and he’s drunk.  _ Sloppy  _ drunk. He hasn’t seen Otis in the last hour. Was it an hour? Maybe it’s been two.

He knew going to Aimee’s party in his state was a bad idea, but he’d come anyway. Out of boredom, out of fear of missing out, maybe even to be a bit mean. He thinks of Adam, locked away in boarding school, feels a cruel self satisfaction that he’s suffering while Eric’s on the outside world.  _ Free _ . Having fun.

A red haired girl stumbles close to him, skin closer in hue to green than white. She gives him a smile, showing off glitter braces, and promptly throws up on his shoes.

Right. He’s not having fun at all. He’s  _ miserable _ .

It’s all Adam’s fault. Of course it is. When was Adam not making Eric’s life a living hell? Sure, there had been the past six months. Their dozens of letters sent and received, with each one that arrived Eric had felt surer and surer that maybe... _ maybe  _ what he had felt with Adam that last day of school had been real. The smallest touch of their pinky fingers which had vibrates through his body like a bolt of lightning, maybe he could feel something like that with Adam again.

But then, out of nowhere, two weeks ago, the letters stopped. Eric had sent four before he realized that Adam was ghosting him. He’d waited everyday for the mail, hoping that Adam’s reply would come. Everyday until today that is, when he looked in the mail and saw all four of his letters, slapped with ugly red ink: RETURN TO SENDER. That was just like Adam, wasn’t it? Eric supposed he was just cruel enough to play this joke out as long as he could, so the sting of rejection would hurt Eric even more when he finally got it.

Whatever. He wasn’t going to sit at home and wallow about it. It was Friday. The Friday before Halloween, and Aimee was throwing the biggest costume party the school had ever seen. Eric wasn’t going to miss out just because some bully had seemingly come to his senses and remembered what an asshole he was. Not a chance.

So here he is, standing in Aimee’s house, vomit on his shoes, too drunk out of his mind to even care, and so wretchedly unhappy he could cry.

_ Where’s Otis? _ Eric thinks for what must be the twelfth time in the last half hour. He needs to clean his shoes. He needs to go home.

Somehow he manages to make his way down the stairs without slipping and twisting one of his ankles. He shuttles into a bathroom and feels a great swell of peace when the music becomes muffled and the air less thick. Off come his shoes. The worst part about it is he’d just gotten them last week.White patent leather go-go boots, four inch heel. They had been amazing. And now he was set about the unpleasant task of cleaning puke off them. And it wasn’t even his own. Well, cleaning the puke  _ off  _ wouldn’t be the hard part, it would be the smell that really—

Eric was so caught up in this thought he hadn’t even heard the click of the door opening. Hadn’t even heard it open and close. Didn’t even notice the other person suddenly in the room with him until he caught his eye in the mirror above the sink. Eric’s back goes stiff, the shoe currently in his hand falls to the floor. It was almost as if all the alcohol in his body had evaporated, and in that moment he was cold sober.

Eric turns to the person behind him, wondering, pathetically, if he’s dreaming.

“Adam?”

His own voice is the last thing he remembers hearing before everything goes black.

It’s way too fucking loud. Had the world always been so goddamn noisy?

That was one of the only perks of Mountview. The silence. Outside of drills, where the sergeants screamed so loudly they looked to be on the brink of aneurysm, it was always quiet. Even during meals, conversations didn’t seem to come up above a comfortable tone. Walking into Aimee’s house, with loud voices and louder music assaulting his ears, Adam suddenly feels overwhelmed.

He finds the closest room with a shut door. Whoever else is in there will just have to deal. He’s in there with the door shut behind him in seconds, but he can barely breathe a sigh of relief before he notices just who  _ else  _ is in the bathroom with him.

It’s an angel.

More specifically, Eric dressed up as an angel. But, really, what’s the difference? Eric was as close to one Adam had ever met.

He’s dressed all in white. A short white... _ something _ , stops just below his bottom. It hardly covers anything at all, no sleeves, and Adam can see reflected in the vanity that there’s a large cutout exposing his midriff. He wears small feathery wings. His shoes are off, one in the sink, one slung carelessly across the toilet.

What really takes Adam aback is his face. He hasn’t seen that face in months. The face of the person he used to torment. The face that, over the course of the past six months, he couldn’t stop thinking about.

He’s beautiful, of course. Just like Adam remembers. There’s gold, highlighting his high cheeks, making his big eyes look impossibly wider, gold on his lips, drawing Adam’s eyes in almost immediately. On his head, something of a hybrid halo-crown. He looks effervescent. Maybe it’s because Adam hasn’t seen many pretty sights in the past six months, but he swears Eric is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

In an instant, Eric’s eyes find his in the mirror. His back goes straight. The shoe he’d be holding falls softly to the floor. He turns slowly to look at Adam, acting with all the hesitation of if he’d seen a ghost.

“Adam?” He says softly, and then, without warning, he begins to fall to the ground.

Adam scoops him up before he can fall. Somehow has the foresight to grab his shoes, before hauling him up into his arms, and beginning the trek up the stairs. Eric isn’t exactly heavy, and Adam had filled out a bit more at Mountview, so it doesn’t take much longer to climb them than it normally would. Hardly anyone seems to notice them and he finds Aimee’s parents room, blessedly empty, before anyone really begins to stare. He places him as gently as he can on the bed for collapsing beside him.

Adam shouldn’t have come here. He should’ve stayed home, eaten dinner with his family, and gone the fuck to sleep. He contemplates leaving, but a sidelong glance at Eric in his costume shuts that idea down immediately. Adam shutters at the thought of what he might do if anything were to happen to him. He’ll wait for him to wake up, Adam decides, then maybe they could talk. He thinks back to the first letter Eric sent him...

_ The first letter arrived a little under a month after he got to school. He’d received a few from his mother, one from his sister even, but this was the first one he’d gotten from Eric. Adam kept it folded in the pocket of his fatigues, didn’t dare open it until well after lights out, squinting hard at it in the dim glow of the moonlight. _

Dear Adam,

I got this address from your mum. After I saw you that last day I went up to your door and told her I was a friend of yours who hadn’t gotten a chance to say goodbye. She was so excited, like I was the first “friend” of yours she’d ever met.

_ Adam’s heart skipped. Eric didn’t know how right he was. _

Anyway, I didn’t know if I should write anything at all.

What was that? In detention? And in science? I’ve been trying to figure it out all this time, but I can’t understand how you could go from hating me to sucking my dick in the span of a day. Maybe it would’ve been best if I’d left well enough alone, decided that my bully suddenly disappearing was a gift from God and that I shouldn’t ask too many questions.

But that’s not how I feel. I keep thinking back to last day in class, and how you looked at me when you drove away. You just...don’t feel like a bully anymore. I hope I’m not wrong.

Eric

_ Adam felt as if he’d just run ten miles and could run ten more. He slid out of his bed, rifled through his desk as quietly as possible until he produced a notebook and pen, and hurried to the washroom. He crouched in the furthest stall and began crafting his own letter. God, he hoped Eric wasn’t wrong either _

… Eric begins to stir beside him, immediately one hand goes up to his head, and he groans, “I feel like I’ve just woken up from a coma.”

Adam glances at the clock, can’t help the small smile that forms. “You were out for less than fifteen minutes.”

“Did I fall?”

“I caught you before you could.”

Eric looks at him more closely. “Adam?” he says, again, like he’s just now realized who he’s speaking to. He scrambles back off the bed like he’s been burned. “What are you doing here?”

Adam gets up too, fights the urge to walk around the giant bed and close the distance between them. “I’m just—”

“You know what? I don’t care,” Eric beats him to it, climbs right over the bed until he’s got Adam backed up against the wall. Barefoot facing Adam who’s already taller than him  _ without _ thick soled combat boots, he’s laughably unintimidating. Still he pokes Adam squarely in the chest. “Why the  _ fuck  _ didn’t you answer my letters?”

It’s like Eric had passed out and woken up sober, or maybe his anger just burned the alcohol off. Either way, he felt decidedly less drunk than he had been fifteen minutes ago.

“If it was all a joke to you,” Eric presses on, “that’s cruel even for you.”

Eric has to tilt his head up to look at Adam from this angle. He doesn’t expect the look on his face to be so... hurt.

He grabs his wrist, grip gentle, pulling Eric’s finger away from where it’s still stabbing at his chest. “It wasn’t a joke.”

“Then why—”

“I know I’ve been a dick to you, but I thought— you still think that way about me?”

Eric wilts, guilt beginning to churn within him. “No, I—”

“I thought,” Adam rubs circles into Eric’s wrist with his thumb, eyes toward the ground, bashful like a little boy. “I  _ thought  _ you’d forgiven me,”

“I  _ have,  _ but—”

“I—”

“God, shut up!” Eric snaps, pulling away from Adam to flop onto the bed. “I  _ have,  _ okay? Forgiven you,” he pauses, daring Adam to interrupt him again, “or at least I  _ thought  _ I had.”

Adam’s eyebrows knit. “I don’t understand.”

“ _ You  _ don’t understand? That’s mint, because I don’t either.”

“What do you—?”

“Where did you go? You stopped writing, and all my letters got sent back.”

Adam’s face goes blank. He hesitates, before moving to sit beside Eric. He tentatively rests his hand against Eric’s. “When was this? About two weeks ago?”

“Yes, how did you—”

“My mum pulled me  _ out  _ of Mountview about then,”

“Then why—”

“Didn’t I call? Haven’t visited? I’ve been grounded, still am, actually.”

Now it’s Eric’s turn to look confused. “I don’t understand.”

Adam signs, lacing his fingers through Eric’s, finally. “My parents… haven’t been good. My mum never wanted me to leave in the first place, they’ve been fighting ever since I’ve gone. Apparently, they decided that they’d pull me out, but I’m grounded until end of term  _ and  _ I have to stay at Mountview as a day student until next semester.”

“So that’s why—”

“I haven’t got your letters.”

Eric wants to melt. “I’m  _ so  _ s—”

“Don’t,” Adam interrupts. “I just—I meant what I said when I wrote you, you know that?”

Eric thinks to Adam’s first letter…

_ Eric, _

_ I’m sorry for everything, figure I’ll just get that right out of the way. I’ve been a proper asshole towards you for too long and I’m sorry. I get it if that’s not enough for you. I don’t think it would be for me. _

_ But I never hated you. That was the problem, I  _ _ couldn’t  _ _ make myself as hard as I tried. I just, I don’t know. As fucked up as it is, I think I just wanted to be close to you. It was never enough until that day. Being with you, it’s like there’s this ache in my chest and it finally went away when I touched you. _

_ I really am sorry, for everything. And I’m sorry to ask if you’ll write me again. I don’t want you to think of me like that anymore, either. _

_ Adam _

… Eric smiles, “I  _ might _ have overreacted,” let’s his head rest against Adam’s shoulder. “Wait,” he looks up at him. “You’re still grounded...why are you here?”

“I dunno. I guess, I figured you’d be.”

“But if you get caught—”

“My parents care in London visiting my sister, and they took my phone. Past that I doubt they care what I’m doing.”

“So they’ve given you a break from your grounding?”

Adam shrugs and Eric begins to laugh, nestles closer to him until they find themselves laying down, Adam on his back and Eric curled on his side.

“Someone threw up on my shoes,” Eric says after a while.

“I might’ve figured that out.”

A pause.

“I never knew how much I’d miss you,” Eric confesses, finally.

Adam lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “I knew I’d miss you.”

Another pause, smaller.

“Kiss me?”

Like he’d even had to ask.

Adam shifts until he’s on his side. He finds Eric’s lips immediately, doesn’t hesitate for a moment as he presses his own to them. His hand finds Eric’s waist, the exposed skin there warm and soft, as both of Eric’s wrap around Adam’s neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

Soon Adam’s lips find Eric’s neck. He presses kisses there, causing Eric to moan and squirm.

“Adam,” he cries, pulling him back up to his lips.

They stay like that for what feels like hours. Eric breaks away with a disappointed sigh.

“My parents will kill me if I’m not home soon,”

It’s an impossible task, but somehow Adam forces himself to untangle from Eric. “I’ll walk you.”

“Of course you will,” Eric teases, bright smile on his face. “I’ve waited seventeen years for a boyfriend, I’m not  _ not  _ going to get all the perks.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Oh, don’t get all pensive about it, you remind me of Otis.”

“I just—you want me to be?”

Eric looks at him. “I  _ like  _ you Adam. And you like me. You’ve had a girlfriend, you know how this works.”

Adam can’t find anything better to say than, “thank you.”

Eric slips into his shoes, standing triumphantly when he finally gets them on. He holds a hand out to Adam. He takes it.

Eric pulls him close one last time. “Who’d’ve thought, huh? Adam Groff, sap.” he presses a soft kiss against his cheek.

They walk to Eric’s in a comfortable silence, hand in hand in the darkness. When he sees their car a wave of guilt washes over him. “I’m sorry about—”

“You can’t keep apologizing for everything you did,” Eric squeezes Adams hand. “We won’t have time to have a relationship if you do.”

“It’s—”

“It’ll take time, okay? But they say the best things always do,” Eric rests his forehead against Adam’s sweetly.

“I’d kiss you goodbye, but my father is almost certainly watching from that window,” Eric gestures vaguely. “And we’re Christian, so. No kissing until marriage.”

Adam can’t resist. Takes their entwined hands and presses a kiss to Eric’s. “Write me?”

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are appreciated <3


End file.
